Christopher Maurice Brown 24 years old. Los Angeles, CA -----
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I sat on the couch, my eyes glued to the television screen as I mashed the buttons on the controller, trying to lose myself in the game.
The light from the screen was the only thing illuminating the dark room, casting long shadows across the walls. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the tension from earlier.
The argument with Aaliyah kept replaying in my mind, making it hard to focus.
She had been on my case about not being around, and I knew she was right. I'd been in and out, trying to juggle work and everything else, but it didn't change the fact that I hadn't been there for her like I should have.
The surgery, the pain she was going through—I wasn't there to hold her hand, to comfort her, to make sure she knew she wasn't alone. And now, it felt like there was this wall between us, and I just wanted to get rid of it.
I sighed, pausing the game. What the hell was I doing? Sitting here, playing this damn game like it was gonna solve anything. I needed to make it right with her, to show her that I was still here, that I still cared. But how?
I turned off the game and tossed the controller onto the couch beside me. Running a hand over my face, I tried to push away the frustration crawling at me. I knew what I needed to do, but the thought of facing her after everything we said to each other...it wasn't easy.
But she was in pain, and that was on me. I should've been there, and I wasn't. I owed her more than just some half-assed apology. I needed to show her that I was still her man, that I still had her back... I had to push that personal shit out the window.
Standing up, I stretched out my arms and cracked my neck. The living room felt too quiet, too empty without her by my side. I glanced toward the hallway, knowing she was in the bedroom, probably sleeping. But I couldn't let it end like this. Not tonight.
I made my way to the bathroom, flipping on the light. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and shook my head.
I looked as tired as I felt, but that didn't matter right now. I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water run over my body. I closed my eyes, trying to clear my mind, but thoughts of Aaliyah kept creeping in.
I needed to do better. For her. For us.
After a few minutes, I shut off the water and grabbed a towel, drying myself off before wrapping it around my waist. My mind was made up. I was going to fix this, no matter what it took.
I walked down the hallway to the bedroom, the door slightly ajar. I pushed it open quietly, stepping inside. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the moon outside the window. Aaliyah liked it pitch black.
